


Try Listening

by Sherlock1110



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kidlock, Missing Sherlock, Neglect, Protective Big Brother Mycroft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-08 04:36:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8830645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlock1110/pseuds/Sherlock1110
Summary: When Mycroft goes off to university Sherlock's left home alone with Mummy. With father at work, only one person can tell if Sherlock doesn't come home and when. Where is he?





	1. Chapter 1

Mycroft stormed into his parents house, more than annoyed. According to his mother everything with Sherlock had been fine since he'd moved out. 

The move had been over 2 years ago. Sherlock had even helped him pack saying 'I can't wait when you're gone, you're room can be for my experiments.' The boy was only 9 and he was conducting experiments an a level chemistry student would struggle with. 

"What did you do?" He demanded of Mummy as soon as he had located his parents. 

She was shocked at first, but then sighed. Sherlock, by all accounts, had never been an easy child, but at least when Mycroft was at home he had someone to… look up to. Mummy had always taken the role of the stern parent because his father was just a soft lump of teddy bear. 

"I smacked him. He was running riot and I-"

"You did what," Mycroft snarled. "You hit him!" He turned on Mr. Holmes. "And you let her," but then he saw the look on his face. "You didn't know."

"I was at work up to an hour ago. I arrived home just before you, son. This is news to me."

There was a knock on the door. Mummy, Mycroft noticed, froze, but his father had obviously deduced what it was about, even if he couldn't pin point who it was. 

"I know you didn't want police involved which is absolutely absurd seeing as the boy is 11, but I know a man who can help us."

"We don't want the police involved because-" Mr. Holmes cut his wife off, rather appalled at the 'we' comment. 

"It's you who doesn't-"

"I know why!" Mycroft snapped. "The family name is more important than your son."

Mr. Holmes stepped forward then, almost to distinguish whatever argument was about to arise between mother and son. It would not help matters. 

"He's more than just a man, isn't he, son?"

Mycroft blushed, red rising up his cheeks. He quickly left the room before he could say something embarrassing. 

He brought Greg through the house and paused in front of his parents. "This is DS Gregory Lestrade. My boyfriend. Gregory, this is Siger and Violet, my esteemed parents."

Mr. Holmes stepped forward immediately. 

"It's good to meet you, sir," the DS held his hand out. 

The shake was returned strongly and Greg grinned. 

"Right, well… Mrs. Holmes?"

The older woman had frozen were she stood. "Right. Yes, hello, dear," she smiled, but it was clear that it was forced. 

Mycroft stepped between them. "What is it? Is there a problem with me being gay?"

"Sherlock said… I never believed him."

"I didn't tell Sherlock. I haven't… he's cleverer than he lets on." He felt rather proud of his brother. 

"Babe, I understand our relationship is of vital importance, but so is finding your little brother."

"Right. Of course." He turned back on Mummy. "When was the last time you saw Sherlock?"

"It's me that should be asking the questions," Greg grinned as he dropped his hand on Mycroft's shoulder. The DS pulled a notebook from his pocket and a pen. "When did you last see Sherlock?"

"This morning. He went off to school at the usual time. He didn't come home."

"How does he get to school?"

"We have a driver that takes him."

"He boarded up until about 3 months ago," Mycroft explained, seeing as it could be relevant for Greg to find him. "He got hassle in the block his room was in, he told me all about it. I managed to convince them to let him commute in daily."

Greg nodded, noting down some of the things Mycroft mentioned, then he glanced up to the two elder Holmeses. "How was he this morning? When he left?"

"Fine."

Mycroft looked between his parents, immediately deducing by the look on their faces. "You didn't see him this morning."

"I was in Dublin," Siger pointed out. "Have been for the last few days."

The teenager's gaze flickered from his father towards his mother. "No. I had to go to the store."

"When was the last time you actually saw him?" Greg repeated calmly, but he could sense the frustration coming off his boyfriend in waves. 

"I saw him at the weekend. He helped me with a puzzle I had been having with a client at the office, then I left for the conference in Dublin shortly after."

"Mummy?" Mycroft questioned, hoping the look on her face didn't mean what he thought it did. 

Mrs. Holmes didn't reply, she circled around the settee and sat down on it awkwardly, not looking at any of the three men still in a small group in the centre of the room. 

Greg followed her and perched in an armchair. "Mrs. Holmes, this is of vital importance. I need to know."

"Friday? Maybe Saturday," she stared at the floor and Mr. Holmes turned towards her. 

"You haven't seen Sherlock since before I left? He's not poisonous!"

She looked up, frustrated at being treated like a criminal. So she hadn't seen him for a few days. What was the problem with that?

"All he does is argue," she defended herself. "He's got quite the temper."

"He's 11!" Mycroft snapped. "If you were struggling with him, why didn't you tell me?"

"Or me?" Siger was quite interested to know too. 

"Siger, you're always at work. You don't know what he's like-"

"I am not always at work! I'm here as much as I can be and he has never been any trouble for me."

"Nor me," Mycroft agreed. 

"Sherlock adores you," Mrs. Holmes countered in her eldest son's direction. She used to think it was sweet how close her two boys were, but now she found it nothing but an irritant in everyday life. "He's always asking after you. 'When's Mycroft coming home?' 'Why did Mycroft have to leave?' 'Was it your fault Mycroft went away?'."

Mycroft shut his eyes. "Try listening to him." He was sure that was where his mother was likely struggling with his little brother. "It works wonders."

"I do listen!"

"Mummy, Sherlock is a very mixed up boy. He struggles with the every day social aspect of his life and the boys at school do not make it any easier for him. If you listen, he does talk about it."

Greg cleared his throat. "This isn't helping. So, Mrs. Holmes, the last time you saw your son was Saturday?" He tried not to let his shock show as he spoke, but could tell his boyfriend noticed it immediately. 

"Yes. Yes, that's true."

"Then how do you know he has come back since Monday? Assuming he left for school."

"I've seen the car outside."

"Have you seen Sherlock get into it?"

"No… but why else would it be there?"

"Violet, you're aware the drivers changed over at the weekend, correct?" 

The eldest Holmes turned on her husband. "Why?"

"Because Stephen took me to Dublin."

Mycroft growled loudly. "Do you two not talk to each other? Sherlock has been missing for nearly a week and you do not have a clue! Gregory, we're not going to find anything here." Mycroft headed for the door. 

"Babe, I still have more questions."

"She hit him. The last time she saw him, she hit him. So he's gone and we need to find him."

"Alright. I'll need to search his room."


	2. Chapter 2

Mycroft led the DS up the stairs and straight to his baby brother's bedroom. 

He paused at the door, staring at the white wood. Greg dropped his hand on his shoulder and squeezed it gently. "It's alright, Myc."

The minor government official couldn't help himself, he froze. He couldn't go in, what if something bad was in there? Something that proved Sherlock was hurt. 

Greg stepped around him and pushed the door in. Then he froze too. 

Sherlock's room was empty, the desk draws open with a few test tubes littering the floor nearby. The wardrobe door was open, a pair of trousers hanging out. 

Mycroft paced into the middle of the room and spun around. He walked to the wardrobe and glanced inside it. Apart from the one pair of trousers, the only thing inside was the hideous jumper their mother had bought him one year. 

"His case has gone," he told Greg, noticing the usual place for it being empty. 

Greg was frowning deeply, but he was brought out of his shock by a sharp crack. He turned and saw Mycroft holding his fist in his hand. Then saw the hole in the wardrobe door. 

"You bloody idiot!" He snapped, immediately moving towards him and pulling a handkerchief from his pocket. He wrapped it over his grazed knuckles. "You're going to need a doctor for that."

"I don't give a fuck about my hand! Where's my baby brother?"

"Babe-"

"No! No, Greg, no! How the hell has my brother moved out all of his stuff and not get noticed? What's my mother been doing? Sleeping for 4 days straight?"

He tried to pull his hand free of the copper's grip, but Greg wouldn't let him. 

"Mycroft, where would he go? Have you any other family?" It wasn't like the other man to get so distracted, to be blocked from thoughts by his emotions.

"An aunt, a couple of uncles, but no one Sherlock would go to if he had a choice. He doesn't do family. He thinks they're boring and he hates them."

"He doesn't hate you."

This time Mycroft pulled his hand free and took off down the stairs. He stormed his way through the hallway and back into the front room. His father was stood over by the fireplace, staring distantly and his mother was sat in her usual chair. 

"Did you even check his bloody room?" He snapped. 

That brought Siger out of his reverie. His bedroom?

"Son, what is it?"

"Everything's gone. All of his clothes, even his violin and his microscope. The whole bloody room is empty. He'a moved out all his stuff and you didn't even notice!" The latter was aimed at his mother. 

"Mycie-"

"No! No, Mother, you don't get to call me that. You hit him and he ran away. Literally!" His gaze darted to Mr. Holmes who had stepped away from the fireplace now and was looking even more concerned than he had a matter of minutes ago. 

"Son, you've hurt yourself." He spotted the way Mycroft was holding his limp fist and frowned. 

Mrs. Holmes tried to reach for his hand as she, too, noticed the minor government official's hand. 

Mycroft moved away. "Don't try playing caring mummy now! It's far too late for that. 

Greg joined them again, taking the ice he had pulled from the freezer in the kitchen and pressing it straight into Mycroft's knuckles. 

Mycroft winced, hissing air between his teeth. 

"Shut up," Greg hissed lightly. "This is your own fault. Now, hold it there or it will swell and be of no use to anyone."

Mycroft, feeling like a well chastised child, held the ice to his knuckles while Greg wrapped a bandage around it that he had got from the first aid kit in his car. "What school does he go to?"

"Eton."

"Then we'll go there next. I should speak to the teachers, see if anything was troubling him." He closed his eyes briefly, something told him it was a long shot. But it was the only shot they had, seeing as Mrs. Holmes couldn't even pinpoint the moment Sherlock had gone. 

Mrs. Holmes stood to join them, to find out where her youngest had gone. 

"No," Mycroft shook his head. "You aren't coming."

"Mycroft!" she snapped sharply. "Don't talk to me in that way."

"I'll talk to you however I like. How could you? You lost him and you don't even know when."

"I can help!"

"No. Dad can." He took Greg's hand with his unbandaged one and tugged him to the door. "You coming, Dad?"

Siger nodded at once. "Of course, son. I'll follow in my own car."


	3. Chapter 3

"Sherlock's been improving massively," said the headmaster, his hands folded up beneath his chin. 

Greg, Mycroft and Mr. Holmes were sat in the old man's office. 

"How so?" Mr. Holmes asked. His youngest wasn't exactly known for his good behaviour. 

"He attends all his classes and his grades are improving also." He turned a file around and pushed it towards the two Holmeses. All A's. It was the normal for a Holmes, just not normal for Sherlock…

Mycroft frowned, glimpsing his brother's grades. "The grades I understand, he's far more capable then he ever lets on, but attending classes… that makes no sense."

"You have caught him on a bad day, I'm afraid."

Mycroft's head snapped up, bad day? "Hmm?"

"He's in detention with one of his classmates. They were late to philosophy this morning."

"And that's the only time he has stepped out of line? In over a month?"

The headmaster inclined his head. "You should be very proud. He's matured massively in the space of time he has been here."

"Hang on," Mycroft stood up, his chair tipping back. "He's in detention. Now?"

"Mycroft, that doesn't matter," his father interrupted, "look at how well he's been doing."

"That's not my point, Dad. He's here. Now!"

Mycroft took off out the door, Greg close behind. It didn't take him long to find the philosophy wing, having attended the school himself. 

He opened the detention classroom door and charged in. He immediately spotted his brother sat next to a blond boy, they were both hunched over their books. 

Mycroft snagged his brother by his school tie and pulled him to his feet, wrapping his arms around him. 

"Myc-" the younger Holmes choked out.

The teacher at the front stood up, about to intervene, but he immediately recognised the teenager. "Mycroft Holmes. What on earth is going on?"

"My apologies, Mr. Windsor. There seems to have been a break down in communication."

"Myc, what's going on?" 

Sherlock was still getting crushed by his older brother. Eventually John stood up beside him and pulled them apart. 

"Does he do that a lot?" The blond boy asked. 

Sherlock raised both hands to his curls and ruffled them up again, where they'd fallen flat. "No, actually. Not anymore." He glanced up, as Mr. Holmes joined them. "Father?"

"God, Sherlock, you gave us a freight."

"Why?"

"You went missing, little brother," Mycroft pointed out. 

The youngest boy shrugged. "And? I moved in here a week ago."

The philosophy teacher clearly had no idea what they were talking about. 

Mycroft cleared his throat, turning his gaze on Mr. Holmes. 

"It's not his fault, Myc," Sherlock put in. "He was away for work."

"He's always away for work!" Mycroft snapped. 

"Babe," Greg whispered, sharply. He put his hand on his boyfriend's shoulder. 

"You're right, of course, Mycroft," Mr. Holmes agreed. "You boys come first. Always."

"Sherlock," Mycroft turned back on his brother. "Where have you been sleeping? You don't board here."

John awkwardly waved and it made Sherlock smirk. "With me. We top and tail."

Frowning, Mycroft inclined his head. "Sherlock, won't you introduce us?"

"Oh, yeah. This is John. John this is my brother and my dad."

"The really clever brother?"

Mycroft's eyebrow raised at that. "Really, little brother? Been singing my praises?"

Sherlock harrumphed. "My only brother. And this must be Mycie's new boyfriend."

The minor government official's nose turned up at his bratty brother immediately, his neck flushing red. "You're such a brat."

"Why do you think I moved out?" Sherlock snapped. He grabbed John's hand and began tugging the other boy out of the room after him. 

"Sherlock, wait!"

The boys didn't stop, just kept going until they reached John's room. The blond boy quickly shut the door and locked it. "What do you want to do?"

Sherlock shrugged and sat on the edge of the bed, almost defeated. "It took them long enough to notice I had gone."

"It took your mother long enough to notice," John corrected sitting next to him.

It wasn't long before there was banging on the door. "Little brother, let us in," came Mycroft's voice. 

"Go away!" Sherlock ordered, his voice more high pitched than he would have liked. 

It was only another 5 seconds that the door separated them. The headmaster had the key in the door and was letting the others in.

Around the room was clearly a mess, there was no way two boys' stuff could be kept tidy in one bedroom. 

"Sherlock…" Mr. Holmes trailed off and turned on the headmaster. "How did you not notice my son was sleeping here?"

His eyes widened, "They did nothing to suggest…"

"He's right, Mr. Holmes," John informed them. "We needed to keep it secret so Sherlock could stay."

"But he would be in the hall for meals all the time. How was he not noticed?"

"Actually, it was a pain in the bum trying to get him to eat," John ruffled Sherlock's mop of curls and the younger boy let him. "But I just brought food back with me. And of course he was there for lunch anyway."

"But… room inspections?" Mycroft complained. How had the prefects not realised the fact two boys were sleeping in a room meant for one? It was the one aspect of being a student at Eton that Mycroft had hated. Especially when he'd become a prefect and had to carry them out.

"Mike's a friend of mine," John shrugged. "He didn't take much convincing."

"Mike… Stamford? The head prefect?"

John nodded. "But please don't let him get in trouble. He was only doing what he thought was right for Sherlock."

Sherlock hadn't spoken in a while and was staring at the carpet between his feet. 

"Why did you do it, little brother?"

"It took a week for me to get noticed. I didn't like it when Mummy hit me… it was the only thing I could do."

"I'll stop going away for work, son. You won't-"

"No, father," Sherlock shook his head. "Because come next term, someone else will want your help. I'm happy here. With John."

Mycroft turned on his father. "Where's the harm? He's happy here, clearly, the most happy I've seen him in a long time. And he hasn't been getting into trouble. I boarded, why can't he?"

Mr. Holmes thought for a moment and then inclined his head. "Very well. But Sherlock will have his own room."

The boys grinned, but Sherlock's shortly turned to a frown. "I want to be on this level. Next to John." The thought of being anywhere else… it made him want to cry. 

"I don't know about that-" the headmaster tried arguing, but Mycroft's glare stopped him. 

"You let two 11 year olds keep such a massive secret in your school, I think you should think very carefully before arguing."

The headmaster nodded at once. "I'll have the next room prepared for him."

Sherlock's grin was back and he wrapped his arms around his brother. "Thanks, Myc!" 

Mycroft closed his eyes and held his little brother close for a moment. "Just never do that to me again, 'Lock."

"I won't."

"Promise me, baby brother."

"Promise."


End file.
